


Lickety-Split

by horselizard



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Female Lister, Femdom, Humor, Malesub, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horselizard/pseuds/horselizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lister's always known she's got a body that drives Rimmer wild. Now that Rimmer's got a body too, she decides to find out whether he can do the same for her.</p><p>(Author's note: I did the thing with the title again. I'm so sorry. Again.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lickety-Split

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Starbuggers Red Dwarf Kink Meme. Original prompt: "AU, Male Rimmer going down on AlwaysAFemale!Lister. Femdom undertones are welcome."

“Not even if you were the last woman alive.”

That was what he'd always said, the daft smeghead, protesting too much as usual. Lister had no problem with rooming with a guy, but Rimmer seemed to think it required endless, dizzying alternations between ludicrous innuendo, and overloud refuting of imaginary rumours. It would have been tiresome, if it wasn't so amusingly hypocritical.

She was under no illusions about what he thought of her as a person. She knew he'd meant it when he said it, and the point still stood all those millions of years later: he really _wasn't_ interested in the last woman in the universe. However, unfortunately for him, she just happened to be attached to the last set of female sexual organs in the universe. 

He'd had quite the reputation among her girlfriends before the accident, and for that reason, she had taken great pleasure, over the past six years, in waving her nicely-rounded figure under his incorporeal nose. Padding around in nothing but a baggy top and ratty, faded knickers was not only comfortable, it also scandalised her dead superior no end, and guaranteed her the cruel pleasure after lights-out of hearing stifled, shameful moans from the bunk below.

So it was no surprise when, a few weeks after their encounter with Legion, he had followed her up to the sleeping quarters on Starbug with a pleading look on his scarlet face and a discreet bulge in his tight blue trousers. But it had to be said, the opening gambit was poor, even for Rimmer.

“No, Rimmer,” she sighed, sprawled disinterestedly across the bunk, “I do not 'miss cock', as you so charmingly put it.”

“Oh, come on, Listy,” he whined, his horniness compelling him to plough on through his embarrassment. “You never said you were a rug-muncher. I remember, you went out with that catering officer bloke for, what, three weeks before he realised he was out of your league? So surely you must miss cock!”

She stared at him, thinking how much nicer it would be for all concerned if he could, for once, be made to shut up. A glint came into her eye.

“I assure you, Rimsy, I do not miss cock,” she emphasised. “But I _do_ miss being brought to orgasm.”

One thousand and one. One thousand and two. One thousand and three. One thousand –

“Well, that doesn't make _any_ sense.”

She smirked to herself. “Oh, Rimmer,” she exhaled pityingly, heaving herself up off the bunk and advancing towards him. She was a full head shorter than him, but right now she could tell he was feeling very small. “If I said you're even naiver than I thought, I'd be lying. Listen. I am not letting _this_ –” she palmed his bulging crotch for one teasing instant, and he whimpered – “near _this_.” She gestured to herself. “But if you _really_ want a memory you can wank to at nights –” (caught out, his eyes bulged, as did his nostrils) “– then okay, I'll let you make me come.”

Utterly perplexed now, Rimmer unconsciously licked his lips, and Lister felt something jump low down in her belly. Whether it was from the sight of his darting tongue, or from seeing the lechy git cut down to size by his own pathetic libido, she wasn't sure. “I – I don't understand how,” he stammered.

“God, you're a smeghead,” she snorted, taking hold of his belt and pulling him with her as she slowly backed towards the bunk. “Come on, Rimsy. On your knees.”

Hesitantly, he started to comply, gazing up at her in bewilderment; her hands on his shoulders swiftly dealt wth the remaining few inches of hesitation. She stood there for a few moments, enjoying the sight below her, before plopping herself down onto the bunk and starting to undo her sturdy brown cargo pants. She could see him practically salivating at the prospect of what she was about to reveal. Good; that would help.

“There's only one way you're getting in my knickers, Rimmer,” she said firmly, “and that's by licking me out. Capisce?”

Rimmer boggled, and he opened his mouth to speak. “Yes, I know you've never done it before,” she cut him off, rolling her eyes, “but even _you've_ gotta understand the principle. My fanny. Your big mouth. Repeat to fade. So do we have a deal?”

The thought crossed her mind that perhaps she was being excessively cruel. But then, he'd never given her any reason to treat him otherwise. She'd tried to forge a connection, open him up, on those long, lonely evenings marooned in space; but what good was it being the only two surviving representatives of the human race, if your companion seemed to see you as some alien species? No, scratch that; if she _had_ been an alien, he actually would have _listened_ to what she had to say.

Rimmer's cheeks were flaming, but he couldn't stop glancing down to her unzipped trousers, and his arousal was getting increasingly obvious. Eventually, he nodded dumbly, and she broke out into one of her most infuriatingly-chipper of grins. “Brutal,” she murmured, as she pushed down her clothing to reveal first the smooth, plump, coffee-coloured thighs she had so often taunted him with, then the warm, wet folds he had so often tortured himself with dreams of.

“Go on, then,” she said, leaning back in the bunk, and spreading her legs wide.

God, she had never seen him so mute in her life. This was brilliant. Plus, with any luck, she was going to get an orgasm out of it, to boot. She was in and out of the AR machine often enough, smeg knew (or was it the other way round?), but it just wasn't the same. She watched, suppressing giggles, as Rimmer, his simulated breath shallow and his jaw working like crazy, slowly gathered his courage. After several clumsy, jerky false starts, finally he plunged his head forward, pressed his lips to her vulva (eliciting a gasp)... and started thrusting his tongue rhythmically and determinedly into her vagina.

“Argh! Smegging hell, Rimmer,” she exclaimed, and he pulled back, giving her a worried look.

“What's the matter?” he asked timidly. “Is it not long enough?”

Lister fought off the urge to facepalm. “This,” she muttered, “is why I don't miss cock.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Look. Rimmer. Nothing needs to go inside anything. This whole area is very sensitive. _This_ little bit's got as many nerve endings in it as are in the whole of your knob, for smeg's sake. So be gentle. Take your time. Explore a bit.” She raised a wry eyebrow. “Make the most of it.”

Rimmer looked chagrined, but even so, he nodded intently, reappraised the area for a moment, then bent forwards again, slower this time. Lister's eyes opened wide with unexpected pleasure as the warmth of Rimmer's tongue pressed against her labia; then it was all she could do to keep herself from melting into the bunk as he started gently lapping at her, his tongue flicking tantalisingly against her clit with every stroke.

“Fuck, Rimmer,” she gasped, “talk about beginner's luck.”

His eyes lit up coyly, and he let out a pleased little chuckle; she shivered at the vibrations. “Smeg, don't stop.”

She clutched at the blankets as Rimmer, gaining in confidence, started to lick swirls around her clitoris. “Ahh! Too much, too much,” she exclaimed. “Slow down, I'm not ready. You've gotta warm it up first...”

Rimmer complied instantly, turning his attention back to her labia in a manner that was extremely satisfactory. To her utmost surprise, he was actually taking in what she said, and respecting the requests she was making. So what if he would only listen to her when he had his ears jammed between her thighs? It made a change from not listening to her at all.

Soon, she was more than ready for him to start on her clit again, and so stoked up that it was much easier, rather than trying to remember how language worked, simply to grab him by the curls and tug him gently in the right direction. He groaned against her, and clung on to her thighs to steady himself. That hadn't been part of the deal, but as her fingers tightened in his hair and he let out another low moan which shot straight through her, she decided she really didn't mind.

She moaned, and thrashed, and gasped out breathless, semi-coherent instructions; whenever she managed to open her eyes, she would see Rimmer gazing up at her like a faithful puppy, concentration etched across his features as he tried to read in her expression what he should be doing next, and the sight would make her shudder with pleasure. She'd opened him up _now_ , all right. He'd probably be back to his usual smegheaded self as soon as his mouth was no longer full of her fanny, but for now, _boy_ , she was enjoying the connection they'd forged.

Vaguely, she registered him taking one hand off her thigh, and moving it in the direction of his own crotch. She wasn't going to complain, as long as he didn't get any ideas; certainly not when she was so close to coming. She bucked against him, hard and fast, holding him close by the hair, and desperately hoping he would pay attention to her next instruction.

“Rimmer – ah! – I'm gonna come – oh! – whatever you do – don't smegging _stop_ – ahh! - not until I tell you...”

Rimmer spluttered a muffled noise of understanding into her crotch, and then she felt herself tense up, her body and mind overwhelmed by the stimulation. Mercifully, miraculously, the determined lapping at her clit continued without even a beat of hesitation; she slammed her head back against the wall and howled as Rimmer licked her to an orgasm that flooded her whole being. He kept going through the aftershocks, as she breathlessly rode out the waves of pleasure; it was a while before she could muster up sufficient powers of speech to tell him to stop.

She stared at him, dazed, as he slowly pushed himself away from between her legs, and sat back on his heels. His eyes were glassy, fixed in wonder on that little area he had just got so well acquainted with; his mouth, slick with her juices, hung slackly open, and his hand had unzipped his fly and made its way down into his boxers. Not far from coming himself, he glanced up at her, his flushed face transformed by his open look of need, and as their eyes met, a shiver ran through her.

She came back to herself with a jolt as harsh reality crowded in on her post-orgasmic high. Disturbed, she suddenly noticed that Rimmer, panting and trembling, was on the point of pulling his cock free from the constraints of his simulated clothing, and she sprang forward out of her slumped position with a surge of panic.

"God, Rimmer, no-one wants to see _that_ ," she exclaimed in a tone of disgust, grabbing his wrist to still it, and forcing the protesting material of his boxers back over his erection. "You'll come in your pants or not at all."

As she wrenched his hand away from its plaything and forcibly closed the zip of his stretchy blue trousers, he moaned shamefacedly, having apparently chosen the former.

“There,” she said, settling back in the bunk again, “you got what you came for, smeghead. Now sling yer hook.”

Looking utterly crushed, with one hand instinctively trying to cover his sticky embarrassment, Rimmer staggered to his feet, and stumbled from the room without a word. As the door closed behind him, Lister sagged, a frown knotting her brow, not caring that her trousers were still round her ankles. She had other things to worry about.

That had been a close one. She hadn't been expecting it – had certainly never guessed that such a self-centred sleazeball could be so careful and considerate in the bedroom. But she knew she'd done the right thing. She wouldn't let it happen again. She strengthened her resolve, and forced herself to put his unguarded, impassioned expression out of her mind.

After all, Holly had brought him back to keep her _sane_.


End file.
